Page 36

Twenty-Six

Stella

The spread that Zoe has put together is pretty impressive for a casual beach picnic.

Huck and I square away our equipment and settle in on the edge of the blanket where individual bags of chips, croissants stuffed with herbed chicken salad, and individual slices of Key lime pie are laid out in the center.

“How’d the lesson go?” Zoe asks.

Huck and I exchange a glance. “Once he got into it, he did well,” I say.

“I think you’re being kind, Stella,” Huck says.

“Did she berate you for safety violations?” Teddy asks, and takes a large bite of his sandwich. “She’s always on me about safety stops and tank levels.”

I shake my head. Teddy’s exaggerating. I gave up on nagging him a long time ago when I realized that trying to change him was an exercise in futility.

Gus grins. “Someone has to keep you under control. And who better than Stella? After all, she is the mom of the group.”

“I don’t know if I love that,” I interject, going straight for the Key lime pie. “I’m still too young for motherhood. Especially for such a giant baby.” I laugh, and Teddy points his soda at me.

“Who are you calling giant baby? I am perfectly proportioned.”

Zoe tosses a small bag of chips at him. “You know we can tell that you’re mewing now, right, Tedders? For someone so well put together physically you’re really trying to show off that jawline.”

Teddy pops open the bag and tosses a chip into his mouth, completely unbothered while he smiles at her.

“Actually, Stella was very professional,” Huck answers, finally finding a space in the conversation. “Incredibly patient.”

“Funny. She’s usually just bossy. She must’ve felt bad for you and given you special treatment.” Teddy bumps me with his shoulder. “You’ve never been patient with me.” He says this last part low, meant only for me to hear, and the playfulness drops along with the volume.

“That’s because you’re constantly testing my patience with your antics,” I tease. I wait for Teddy to say something back—after our years of friendship he has more than enough material to ridicule me with—but he stays quiet. He sets down the bag of chips.

Zoe and Gus start cleaning up the picnic items while Huck and I finish our sandwiches and desserts.

I’m in the middle of a perfect bite of pie, where the ratio of whipped cream to graham cracker crust and tart Key lime filling is just right, when Teddy pulls off his T-shirt and wanders off into the waves.

“What’s that all about?” Gus asks.

I shrug. “Maybe he’s heading out for a swim?”

“So much for not swimming on a full stomach,” Zoe says. “He does know we’re getting ready to leave, right?”

Gus holds his hands out in a hell-if-I-know gesture. “We can always pick him up as we motor by I s’pose.”

Huck holds out a paper bag, and I drop some used napkins and my empty chip bag into it. “You think Teddy seems okay?” he asks.

“He’s just in a mood. He’ll be better once we get to work. Fortunately, it’s a short trip to our real dive site and the weather’s perfect, so we can get the magnetometer straight out there.”

Huck nods.

With sand shaken from the blankets and all our trash packed up, we head back to the boat.

On our way, I can’t help but scan the water for Teddy.

I’d told Huck that I thought he was just in a mood of some sort, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else going on with Ted.

He’s been quieter than usual. And yes, he often does disappear when we are out and ventures off to do his own thing, but all of that has always had an air of fun to it, like he’s this young golden retriever running around to investigate every exciting thing he sees without thinking because it just might be the best thing.

His pursuits are light and hedonistic and funny, not wandering off alone.

Whatever this is that he’s doing is different.

My mind eases when I see him on the deck of our boat, feet up, hat pulled low over his face.

He’s still wet from his swim; his skin, already deeply tanned, glistens like the scales of a fish in the sun.

“At least he’s not nude sunbathing this time,” Zoe says with a chuckle.

“There is a god,” Gus says, and throws an arm around her.

“He still does that?” Huck asks. We all turn to look at him. He adds, “The roof of our dormitory was an unsafe space most spring weekends, or a popular spot, I guess, depending on who you were.”

A pair of pelicans coast on the wind ahead of us, and Huck stops to watch them for a moment before stepping on the boat. “He also streaked all the final exams.”

“That tracks,” Gus says. “Then again, if I had Ted’s build, I might be inclined to show off my stuff too.”

“Excuse me?” Zoe fixes him with a look. “Who exactly would you be showing your stuff to in this hypothetical scenario?”

He clears his throat and forces his body into a stretch. “Man, I am so ready to get this search started. Treasure, oh yeah. Shall we weigh anchor?”

“Sounds like you’re volunteering to pilot us over there, Gus?” I ask.

“Well, I was thinking of dipping Ted’s hand into some warm water and seeing what happens, but if you want me to take over as captain, Stella, then yes, ma’am.”

Huck and Zoe take care of the lines and bumpers while I perch next to Gus at the helm double-checking our coordinates.

“He’s not doing too bad,” Gus says lifting his chin to gesture at Huck.

“He’s making an effort,” I say.

“Is it terrible that I’m sort of surprised?

I really liked the guy for the short time we overlapped in Iceland, but I’d sort of pegged him as one of those hands-off fancy boys who sits around scribbling in overpriced notebooks and pecking away on their gold MacBook Pros given his prep school background and fame.

You know him better, Stell. Was I wrong? ”

“His MacBook was gray, but who knows. I don’t think we need to toss him overboard just yet, but there’s still time.” It’s glib, but honesty wouldn’t fly.

Truthfully, I don’t really know Huck. I mean, I thought I knew him, but how much can you learn about someone in just a few days?

I’d been fooling myself. I say nothing of this to Gus.

I’d kept most of what happened between me and Huck on the last trip out of the headlines, but I wasn’t sure if Zoe had shared our conversation from this morning with Gus.

They seemed even closer than when I’d seen them back in March at The Pit.

I can’t imagine that they keep many secrets from each other.

···

Once we reach our general search area, we double-check the gear and make sure it’s all ready to go and functioning properly.

The Lucky Strike is outfitted with sonar equipment, the magnetometer or “mag,” and underwater and aerial cameras.

The first step is to drag the mag and identify target sites, or narrower search windows where we know there’s metal.

The mag doesn’t pick up precious metals, but it can help find other parts of the shipwreck, like cannons, anchors, and ballasts…

and where those are, treasure—including the Elephant’s Heart—may be nearby.

“Okay,” I call to Zoe, “deploy the mag.”

“Mag deployed.”

I head over to Gus, who is stationed by the monitors showing Huck how to interpret the readings.

“See this? That’s a hit, so we’ll mark it with a buoy and then keep going.

We drag the entire space and then go back on the same line spaced out thirty feet apart from the last swath. See, there’s another one.”

I peek at the screen. “That’s definitely something.”

“Could be a big one,” Gus says. “What do you think, Stella, you want to dive on this one now?”

“Yeah, let’s go ahead and check it out since the weather’s calm at the moment. It would be nice to see if we can find our target from this hit. You want to come, Huck?”

He looks nervous, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the earlier scuba incident. I was glad he’d given himself another chance, I wasn’t sure if he would.

“You don’t have to dive with us if you don’t want to. Someone should stay on the boat anyway.”

“I’m okay either way. I think I’m alright with diving again.

It ended up being really good, once I forgot that I was underwater and totally dependent on an oxygen tank strapped to my back and everything going right for my own survival.

Thanks for pushing me to try again. I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to do it if I’d stopped and tried again later.

I probably would’ve talked myself out of it. ”

This makes me curious about what other things Huck has managed to talk himself out of. Was I one of those conversations he’d had with himself where he weighed the risks and decided, nah, not worth it?

“Just remember not to think so much, and you’ll be fine,” I say, conscious of the bite that I’m not able to keep out of my voice.

Teddy finishes his nap and, thankfully, wakes up refreshed and in a much better mood. As I expected, the promise of the hunt has energized him. He races around, squeezes everyone’s shoulders, amping us all up while he pulls on his wetsuit.

Zoe volunteers to stay on board while the rest of us dive a couple of hits that are all laid out relatively close to each other.

“I’m not feeling my best,” she says. “I’m happy to just stay on the comms.”

The seas are calm, and Zoe usually doesn’t struggle with seasickness anyway, except for that one time in Key West apparently.

I search her face. She does look a bit wan, but it’s entirely possible that this is a ploy because she wants me and Huck to start resolving things.

This all feels a bit too Parent Trap adjacent.

“Are you sick?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. Just a little piqued, I think.”

“Huck, Zoe’s out so it’s you, bud. Let’s do this,” Teddy says. He starts grabbing gear, tosses his fins overboard, slings on a tank, and jumps into the water.

Huck looks at me, worry in his expression. “Was that the lack of safety you were talking about?”

“That’s nothing.”

Gus and I suit up and check each other’s equipment before he steps off the boat to try to catch up with Ted. I hand Huck the underwater metal detector he’ll use and start checking his gear.

“You’re going to be fine,” I tell him. “And we’ll stay in sight of each other, just scanning with the metal detector.”

“What do I do if the detector indicates something?”

“In that case, call me over. But we’ll essentially clear the sand by waving our hands to wash it away. Then we’ll see what it is. Sometimes it’s easy to recognize, other times we need Gus. Our permit allows us to bring some small things up for identification and verification. Make sense?”

“Yeah, okay. I think I got it.”

We step to the edge of the boat. I give Zoe a wave.

Huck pulls on his mask. I can tell by his shoulders that he’s breathing a bit fast. If he keeps this up underwater, he’ll burn through his air way too fast, and even though the bottom here isn’t very deep, maxing out around thirty feet, we want to be able to search as much as we can before we have to surface.

I give his hand a squeeze like I had in the water.

“Try to regulate your breathing,” I tell him.

“You’re searching for treasure. That feeling?

It’s nervous excitement, not fear, okay? I’m feeling it too.”

Huck nods again, but this time, it’s a single sharp drop of his chin, confident and resolute. He pulls his face mask on and picks up his metal detector.

“Go for diver one,” Zoe says. “Go for diver two.”

“Clear diver one,” I say and together Huck and I step off into the sea below.

···

Huck and I follow the buoy line to the bottom.

I scan the stretch of seafloor in front of me while I wait for him to clear his ears again.

Then we swim along the sand, listening for hits.

I look for familiar shapes: round ballasts, long cylinders that could indicate cannons or an anchor, grappling hooks, even the metal rings that would’ve formed barrels that could have been storing some of the contraband gems and gold we’re expecting.

“Radio check topside,” Zoe’s voice comes over the radio. “See anything yet?”

“I got nothing,” I say.

“Teddy, Gus—you have any hits so far?”

“We have a whole lot of nada over here.”

“What about you, Huck?” I ask.

“I think I have a signal. Yeah, I definitely do. It’s right over here.”

“Okay, I’m on my way,” I say. I chalk the school of fish swirling in my stomach up to the first hit of the season. It always generates excitement. It has nothing to do with him.

Huck is hovering over something, moving his metal detector back and forth, when I arrive.

“I’m going to fan the area to see if I can expose anything,” I say.

I show him how to move his hand gently to displace the sand without force.

There’s something there, I can feel it. My heart rate picks up.

Is this it? Something comes into view, but I can tell almost immediately that it’s modern-era construction.

“What is it?” Huck asks, still excited.

“Modern trash,” I say. “Let’s move on.”

We keep looking until the light starts to fade. Teddy and Gus find something that could be a ballast, but we don’t turn up anything that indicates we’re in a debris field or that we’re near the wreck.

“Guys,” Zoe calls over the radio. “It’s sundown up here. I’m calling it.”

I meet up with Huck, trying not to think about the disappointment I’m feeling that we’ve come up empty today. This is part of treasure hunting. Some days are amazing and others suck, and a lot of the time, frustration runs high.

“Time to head for the surface,” I tell him.

We rise slowly, cresting above the surface just as the sun is settling into the horizon. “Really sorry about that false alarm,” he says.

“It happens. We’ll get a lot of signals that may not be what we’re looking for. You’ll get used to it.”

“I really thought we had something for a second.”

I lean back on the water’s surface and float. I thought so too.